Psych Sessions
by The Lilac Elf of Lothlorien
Summary: Companion story to 'My Worst Enemy-Rewrite! Kelly Gibbs isn't dealing with her problems as well as she's led everyone to believe. So she starts seeing well respected psychiatrist Dr. Hannibal Lecter who finds the young woman quite interesting indeed. (NOT a romance. Also, more story details in Author's Notes.) (Rating for language)
1. First Impressions

Psych Sessions

Author's Notes: So given that my idea of weaving in Dr. Hannibal Lecter was met with trepidation, I was tempted to let this idea go but my muse was latched onto it.

So for those readers who are curious about the idea of Lecter being Kelly Gibbs' psychiatrist, I decided to post this as a separate story so that if you want to read this part of my story 'My Worst Enemy—Rewrite' you can. But if you just want to stick with the main story, that's cool, too.

However, that being said, there will likely be some aspects from the side story that will pop up in the main story. In that case, I will make sure that I put a note in that chapter saying so.

Now, for those of you who think that this is just going to be a mega crossover with the 'Hannibal' tv show… not so much. This is more of a character writing exercise for me. What do I mean by that? Well, I wanted to have Kelly Gibbs talking with a shrink about her condition, Harry's cancer, and everything else. Someone who would eventually learn of the wizarding world and who would correspond with Kelly while she was at Hogwarts.

The problem with writing a generic psychologist character is that I'd be writing the standard kind of psych sessions between Kelly and her shrink. And I think Kelly needs someone who is highly skilled at getting into her head and finding out her secrets.

At the same time, the idea of Kelly trying to figure out Lecter was also very appealing since she's not actually an NCIS agent but she was raised by one. And come on—who hasn't wanted to see Hannibal Lecter try and beat the lie detector that is the infamous Gibbs Gut?

* * *

Chapter 1 First Impressions

It was one of Kelly's physical therapists who had recommended seeing a psychiatrist about her disability. And while at first Kelly had been resistant to the idea, she knew that keeping everything bottled up wasn't a good thing. Besides, there were things she couldn't talk about with her family or friends so maybe talking with a professional would help give her some insight.

And so, on a blustery summer day, Kelly found herself outside the office of Dr. Hannibal Lecter, waiting for her appointment. At noon precisely, the door to the office opened and an elegant looking man appeared. "Dr. Lecter?" Kelly asked, holding out a hand to shake.

Lecter shook the young woman's hand and gave her a polite smile. "You must be Kelly Gibbs." Stepping aside and opening the door fully, he gestured for his newest patient to enter. "Please. Come in."

Wheeling inside, Kelly looked around the office. As the daughter of a federal investigator she'd not only developed a fairly keen eye for detail but also the habit of taking careful note of her surroundings and she could already tell that Dr. Lecter was very wealthy, though not necessarily from family money. "Nice office," she said, aloud, going over to a table where a stack of pencil drawings were scattered about.

"Thank you," Lecter replied with a note of genuine appreciation in his voice. Most of his patients took no notice of their surroundings or merely made a mention out of a poor attempt at covering trepidation at seeing a psychiatrist. Seeing that the young woman was examining the drawings with an approving eye, he asked, "Do you draw?"

"I used to help my dad build boats in the basement of our house," Kelly replied, maneuvering around so she was facing the psychiatrist who was now sitting, watching her intently. Looking away from the man's gaze, she looked down at her legs and fought back a choke in her voice as she added, "One of my earliest memories was falling asleep in the sawdust on the floor when I was 4 years old, listening to the sound of my dad sanding the wood."

Lecter, never one to miss anything when dealing with patients, mentally noted Kelly glancing down at her lower body and the way she tried to keep the emotion out of her voice when she spoke. "How long have you been paralyzed?" he asked, curiously. While he knew Kelly was currently in physical therapy—she'd mentioned it during the phone call arranging the first session—she had not elaborated on the specifics of her condition, merely mentioning that she had recently lost the use of her legs.

Kelly shook her head in correction. "Not paralyzed… exactly, anyway." Shifting in the wheelchair, she explained, "I have a leg muscle disorder—Tibialis Posterior Atrophy, stage four. I was diagnosed when I was about 12 and now I can't move my legs at all."

"Quite a rare condition," Lecter commented, sympathetically. "And especially tragic given the disorder's progressive nature. You seem to be a very athletic young woman. It can't have been easy for you to lose your mobility."

Letting out a derisive laugh, Kelly sighed, regretfully. "I never got the chance to be athletic except for a year playing soccer when I was 10. I started having trouble with my ankles soon after that and I was in leg braces directly after my diagnosis." Not sure what else to say, she was silent for a moment, her eyes still looking about the room as though searching for a distraction. "Look, I've had… I don't know, almost half my life to deal with this disorder, and… I don't really know what I'm doing here, to be perfectly honest. "

Never one to be put off by patients and their occasional outbursts—subdued or otherwise—Lecter gave Kelly a moment to collect herself before asking, "Tell me about your family. How are they dealing with this?"

It was a while before Kelly was able to calm down enough to talk things through. "My father is a federal agent who deals with death and torn apart lives on a regular basis. My… Well, technically Harry's my cousin but he's more like my brother, really. He's a student at a boarding school in Scotland and since the age of 11 he lives in almost constant fear of his cancer relapsing. My mother died in a car accident that almost killed me and Harry as well when we were kids. Given all that, I think my family has enough to worry about without throwing my personal issues into the mix, don't you think?" A moment or two of silence went by where hazel eyes met blue and it was almost as if doctor and patient were trying to read the mind of the other. "I'm dealing with this, Dr. Lecter" Kelly concluded, firmly, stubbornness in her gaze. "But my physical therapists seem to think otherwise. So that's why I'm here."

"I don't believe you are actually dealing with your condition," Lecter replied, simply. He was already starting to like this young woman immensely. She reminded him of himself, particularly with the way she seemed to compartmentalize her problems. "You've dealt with your cousin living with you as well as his cancer and recovery. You've dealt with your mother's death and the emotional upheaval. But you are focusing on the problems of others, not your own."

Even though it was something she'd heard before—and rather frequently these days—Kelly leaned back in thought. She knew what Dr. Lecter was saying but it wasn't that simple. "And what is my problem?" She asked, not bothering to hide the slight snap in her voice. "That I care about my family too much? That I'm too dependent on them?"

Admittedly, it was rare that Hannibal Lecter came across a truly selfless individual these days. Most people, no matter how altruistic they seemed, always had some sort of goal or agenda. But Kelly Gibbs was not such a person. Rather, she appeared to be one of the few people who would always put the good of others before herself. "I believe your problem is partly that you put others before yourself too often. You never take the time to focus on your own physical and emotional well-being." Giving the young woman a genuine smile, he added, "And that is a good place to start. So… tell me about yourself…"


	2. Food For Thought

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This chapter has been going on in my head since the first chapter but I've been working on it to get it exactly how I wanted it.

Also, this goes into something I mentioned at the end of chapter 13 about how Kelly feels about the death of her mother. So this is some pretty emotional stuff.

Now given the nature of this chapter, I have to issue a drool-warning. I know that if you're familiar at all with the character of Hannibal Lecter you know the kind of cuisine usually associated with him. This is much more mundane and since it is me writing this, food descriptions are pretty detailed.

Chapter 2 Food for Thought

* * *

The second time Kelly met with Dr. Hannibal Lecter she was incredibly surprised when the psychiatrist instructed her to join him in the dining room of his home rather than his office.

When she arrived, Kelly was nearly overwhelmed by the aromas of garlic, ginger, onions, and chile peppers. But underneath the crushing waves of savory scents were sweeter notes of chocolate and cinnamon and something citrusy. For once, Kelly was grateful she sitting down as she practically swooned at the enticing smells.

"You seemed anxious at our first meeting," Lecter said with a smile as he led his patient into the dining room. "I thought this would help put you more at ease."

Kelly wasn't sure how to respond to that but she followed the doctor and took a spot at the table. "Kind of unconventional, isn't it? Inviting a patient over for dinner?"

Lecter smiled again as he went into the kitchen and came back with two plates. Dodging the query for a moment, he set a plate of salad down at his place and Kelly's as he spoke. "Fresh spinach salad with my own homemade bacon, caramelized cippolini onions and shallots, and soft boiled eggs."

Picking up her fork, Kelly eyed the psychiatrist as she took a bite of salad, closing here eyes for a brief moment as she remembered having dinner with NCIS Director Jenny Sheppard in a DC bistro a few years ago. "This is probably one of the best spinach salads I have ever eaten, Doctor," she said, finally, after a few more bites.

Picking up his own knife and fork after pouring two glasses of wine and taking a seat across from Kelly, Lecter began to eat as well. "Thank you. And in answer to your question, I have always felt that therapy should be tailored to each patient's needs." After a sip of his wine, he added, "I believe you need less of a clinical, confrontational approach in lieu of something more casual."

Understanding immediately, Kelly nodded and smiled as she stated, "I don't need a psychiatrist… I need a friend."

"Precisely," Lecter replied, smiling back. He was very much starting to like Kelly Gibbs and he could tell that she was starting to open up just a bit more. When the two had finished their salads, he rose and took both plates to the kitchen, returning with two deep bowls filled with broth, thin noodles, thinly sliced shitake mushrooms, and what looked like crawfish tail meat.

"Ramen noodles," Kelly said, holding back her laughter as the soup was placed before her. After one bite, however, she looked up. "Okay that is definitely NOT ramen."

"Hand pulled Chinese-style noodles with langoustines and mushrooms cooked in fish broth," Lecter informed her, sitting down again. "When we spoke last you told me about your cousin and your father. You mentioned very little about your mother."

Kelly sipped a spoonful of broth thoughtfully as she let the floodgate of memories open up. On the surface, she gave the impression that memories of her mother's life and death were few. But the truth was that Kelly remembered everything about her mother, right down to the stories about her mother's life and childhood. Chewing a bite of the noodles, she considered what to say. "Her name was Shannon. She grew up in a small town in Pennsylvania—Stillwater. Dad lived in the same town. Mom and Dad met, fell in love, got married… Mom mostly took care of me since Dad was still in the Marines."

Sensing there was much more to the history, Lecter decided to chance pushing the issue just a little further. "She died in a car accident, yes?"

"Yes," Kelly replied, shortly, the memories and thoughts getting walled away once more. Finishing her soup, she said, flatly, "I don't want to talk about her. I-I can't…" She couldn't stop the catch in her voice, the flood of memories threatening to overwhelm her… But there was one memory in particular she couldn't shut away—the one part of her mother's death that haunted her every single day. "I… I killed her."

It wasn't often that Hannibal Lecter heard a patient say something to make him pause. Between his own past, his patients and his own… proclivities, he was not an easy man to surprise. But hearing this young woman claim that she killed her own mother caught him off guard. And while it would help explain why Kelly didn't like talking about her mother, something wasn't adding up. "You were only a child. If your mother died in a car accident, how were you responsible?"

Kelly pushed the empty soup bowl to the side before resting her elbows on the table before rubbing her neck with both hands. After a moment, she let out a deep sigh. "Dad was deployed. Mom, Harry, and I went to Camp Pendleton out in California to see him off. The three of us were in Oceanside when Mom saw this drug dealer killing another Marine. She testified against him and we were under NIS protection."

While he was unsure about how this tied into being responsible for her mother's death, Lecter was not willing to question Kelly. She was really starting to open up and he was certain that this was why the young woman felt like so much of the world rested on her shoulders. "That must have been hard for you."

"It was," Kelly admitted, nodding. "I was 8—almost 9… I wanted to go out and play… see my friends…" It was a moment before she realized that tears were falling down her cheeks. Slowly wiping them away, she went on. "But we couldn't leave the house. Agents brought by food and supplies… I hated it. I was going stir-crazy and I started throwing tantrums… I thought if I caused enough trouble Mom would give in and let us go somewhere… And the day she died… she did."

Studying Kelly intently, Lecter could see the events of the accident playing out in his mind. But he could tell that this was something Kelly Gibbs had never told _anyone_… not even her father. "Where did you go?" he asked, gently. The key at this point was to keep Kelly talking—allow her to get the full story out so that she could work on her other issues.

A sad smile crossed Kelly's face as she remembered that day. "The library. Mom let me pick out a couple books and movies. On the way home, the NIS agent driving the van was shot in the head. Mom died in the crash, I was hurt… I always wondered if that's why… Why I started developing the muscle disorder. Some kind of punishment, you know? If it hadn't been for me, Mom would still be alive."

Lecter leaned back in his chair as he considered the young woman's words. The accident was certainly not her fault but he wondered if anyone had ever actually told her that. "Kelly?" Waiting until she was looking him in the eye, Lecter said, very simply, "You did not kill your mother." Seeing her about to argue, he continued. "You had no way of knowing what would happen. You were a child. Nothing that happened that day was your fault."

"I never told anyone about what happened that day," Kelly explained, trying to pull herself back together. "When I was a kid Dad always asked why we'd been out and I always told him I didn't remember. I think he knew but he was waiting for me to tell him." Wiping her eyes again, she was caught off guard by her stomach rumbling. With a dry smile, she said, "So… just soup and salad or was dinner included?"

As a culinary enthusiast, Lecter understood the comforting and healing abilities of food. Whether simple or complex, certain flavors had the ability to trigger memories and feelings. Smiling, he stood, wordlessly taking the soup bowls to the kitchen. After a brief clean up while he heated the gas grill, he placed the steaks he'd prepared on the hot metal, pleased at the sizzling sound that ensued.

While the meat cooked, he fried the cubed potatoes in duck fat and carefully steamed the prepared vegetables. While this was far less grand a meal as he usually prepared, Lecter had correctly presumed that Kelly Gibbs would prefer a simpler menu and in an effort to get her more comfortable with the idea of therapy, he'd decided to return to the basics with his recipes.

In the dining room, Kelly caught the aromas of grilling beef and she remembered being snowed in when she was 11. The power was out and since it was so cold, her father had kept a fire going in the fireplace 24/7. For dinner, he'd cooked steaks on a grill rack set over the flames. 'Cowboy style', he'd called it. When dinner arrived, Kelly forced herself to wait just a moment so as to take in all the aromas.

"Grilled sirloin of beef marinated in soy sauce, Worcestershire sauce, apple cider, garlic, and red pepper," Lecter said, sitting down once more. "Served with red potatoes pan fried in duck fat and locally grown asparagus." After a moment or two he said, "Tell me more about your mother."

Kelly couldn't answer right away as she was savoring her first bite of steak. It was strange… each dish tonight made her think and even remember things she hadn't even realized she'd forgotten. The flavor of the beef made her think of the one and only time her mother had attempted to make stir fry—though her mom's version hadn't been as tender and flavorful as this. Swallowing, she said, "She was the yin to Dad's yang. Dad was hotheaded and quick to react when he was younger. Mom was thoughtful and careful. She cooled him off. After she died, Dad started acting more like her."

As he ate and listened to Kelly talk—providing encouragement as needed—Lecter was indeed starting to understand why she felt her family depended on her. With the death of Shannon Gibbs, Kelly had felt she had to step into her mother's shoes. "You've tried to emulate her," Lecter concluded, nodding knowingly. "Is it possible that is why you have always put others before yourself? Because that is what your mother would have done?"

Eating quietly for a while, Kelly thought about that. It was true… Thinking about how much she had tried to be like her mother, a big part of that had been guilt. "Not just Mom," Kelly replied, pensively. "Dad, too. And even Harry, now that I think about it." As she finished eating, she added, "Extreme selflessness seems to be a family trait."

"Never look at altruism as a curse," Lecter admonished, gently. "There is far too little of it in the world." As he stood, clearing the dishes, he eyed Kelly as he asked, "Would you care for dessert?"

Kelly grinned, knowingly, as she glanced towards the kitchen. "Absolutely. I'm especially curious what that chocolate aroma was coming from."

This time it was Lecter's turn to smile knowingly and without a word he went into his culinary domain and returned with a tray upon which were two bowls containing a trio of sorbets and tiny cups of espresso. "Something you should know—at my table, always expect the unexpected," he said, serving Kelly.

Picking up her spook, Kelly took a very small taste of each sorbet, letting each flavor coat her tongue. "Black current…Lychee… Fig," she said, impressed. "Very different."

"You have a very advanced palate," Lecter observed, approvingly. "I'm surprised."

Kelly shrugged the comment off as she took another bite of the fig sorbet. "I may have simple tastes, Doctor, but that doesn't make me ignorant."

That was certainly true, Lecter had to admit. "Of course. Forgive me." Still, he watched as Kelly sipped the espresso. The beans were from a small, specialty shop and he roasted and ground them himself to keep the flavor exactly as he preferred it.

"Chocolate, cinnamon, and orange," Kelly noted, smelling the coffee. "I would not have expected that. My compliments." After another sip, she raised her eyebrows in approval. "I can honestly say that I have never had espresso straight up before. Usually I have to dose it up with cream and sugar."

"With proper roasting, grinding, and brewing," Lecter explained. "—the beans' natural sweetness can become more pronounced."

"Well, I am going to have to be more selective of where I get my coffee in the future," Kelly said with a grin. After a while, she added, "And I have to thank you. Not just for a wonderful meal, but… for helping me talk about…"

Lecter said nothing as he studied his patient. Part of him was trying very hard not to forget that fact as a bigger part of him saw Kelly Gibbs as something very rare—a potential friend. It was uncommon for him to find someone he admired, but Kelly had many of the virtues he prized and possessed a personal strength that was not found very often. But personal feeling aside, Lecter had to stay objective and professional. "I am glad I could help." A question rose in his mind, especially as he noticed how much more relaxed Kelly seemed to be. "Should I schedule our next session here or at my office?"

The question caught Kelly off guard and she had to think for a moment. This had been one of the best meals she'd ever had, although she did get the sensation that Dr. Lecter had not been challenged very much by the very basic menu. "I wouldn't want to impose by having you do all this cooking again," she started but stopped when the psychiatrist waved the protest away.

"I simply wanted you to be more comfortable with our conversations," Lecter insisted, earnestly. "My kitchen is always open." Thinking on the issue, he went on. "And perhaps next time you might be feeling more adventurous?"

"I think I will be," Kelly agreed, nodding. "Okay. Dinner it is."

Lecter smiled and made a mental note with the date and time for their next session.


	3. The Magic of Truth

AUTHOR'S NOTES: So when I started this side story, I always knew I'd have to cover the question of if and when Hannibal Lecter finds out that Kelly Gibbs is connected to the wizarding world.

This is the chapter that covers that issue. And I'll probably do one more chapter covering Lecter and Kelly's last meeting in person which will be coming sometime later.

* * *

Chapter 3 The Magic of Truth

Quidditch.

The word hung in the air like a pendulum waiting to fall.

Kelly felt frozen with fear, a weight like a rock forming in the pit of her stomach as she heard that word come out of her psychiatrist's mouth. When had she let that word slip? When had she said anything about the wizarding world? Immediately running the past few sessions in her mind, Kelly tried to recall when she might have let secret information slip.

Across the dining table from his patient as they enjoyed pre-dinner cocktails, Hannibal Lecter saw the growing fear and panic on the young woman's face. Instantly realizing that Kelly was afraid that she had divulged information she was not supposed to, Lecter sought to soothe her. "While patient confidentiality keeps me from divulging names and details," he began, calmly. "—I do have to confess that I am well aware of the wizarding world." With a smile, he added, "Including quidditch. It sounds like quite a fascinating game. I would love to be able to go to a match someday."

Her fears allayed, Kelly smiled as well, remembering Harry's third year at Hogwarts and the final match of the year. "It is… amazing," she said, finally. "It's fast, and graceful… And Harry is really good at it. He's even talked about playing professionally after he finishes school."

Lecter rose from his seat and went into the kitchen, returning with the first course—a dozen and a half oysters on the shell with the meats cooked, topped with finely chopped chives. "Locally harvested oysters, prepared _confit_ by poaching in bacon fat, topped with chives from my own plants and spritzed with fresh orange juice."

A fan of seafood in any form, Kelly tried an oyster and closed her eyes for a moment as the flavors of sweet, smoke, salty, and just a hint of spice washed over her tongue, augmented by the sharp, oniony flavor of the chives. "I will take all of these," Kelly said, smiling as she reached for the platter again. "I'm not even sharing."

x

As the two further discussed the wizarding world, Lecter brought up a question he'd been holding onto. "I admit I am surprised that magic has not been able to help with your situation," he observed as Kelly finished off the last oyster.

Leaning back a bit in her wheelchair, Kelly nodded, thoughtfully. "Yeah, me, too." Straightening up a bit, she went on. "But the problem is that my disorder is so rare that hardly anyone knows about it. And I have asked at wizarding hospitals but they don't know anything either. They've never even heard of Tibialis Posterior Atrophy."

Over the next course—braised rabbit with leeks, bacon, and wild mushrooms and served over spaetzle—Kelly spoke in depth about when she was diagnosed with the muscle disorder. "I was diagnosed when I was about 12. I tried to hide it, which was easy at first since the issue was mainly my ankles. But as the muscle weakness got worse, my Dad found out. That's when I started wearing the leg braces."

"How long were you able to hide your disorder?" Lecter asked, curious. TPA was a highly unpredictable disorder. Though the number of people with the disorder were relatively few, the ranges of it varied widely. There was even a report of a woman in her mid 40's who was still at stage 2, while another record had spoke of a young boy who had reached stage 4 when he was only 9 years old.

Kelly shrugged lightly as she swallowed a bite of rabbit. "Almost a year and a half, I think. At first, I just wore high-top sneakers and ankle boots all the time. Then I started wrapping both ankles for extra support." Thinking back on when she was a child, she admitted, "But if I had to do it all over again, I think I'd tell my dad sooner. I don't know if it would have made a difference, but at least I wouldn't have had to keep it a secret."

Musing over that revelation, Lecter found another query forming in his mind. "Did you ever feel that your father neglected you while he was dealing with your cousin's cancer? You had your own disability and issues to deal with, certainly. Did you ever feel as though your father didn't pay you enough attention during that time?"

"_I_ didn't pay myself enough attention," Kelly scoffed, dryly. "My school work, diet, friends… everything just got pushed aside after Harry's cancer. I, uh… I even neglected my own health and ended up with a couple sores on my legs from the braces. Dad helped me as much as he could, but I could have done more to help myself."

The next course was a simple frisee salad with shredded and fried Brussels sprouts, a simple vinaigrette dressing, and some shavings of Manchego cheese. The salad was a perfect palate cleanser as Lecter asked about Harry's illness.

"No kid should have to go through what Harry went through," Kelly replied, simply. "He didn't seem that scared when the doctor told him what was wrong, but he was a kid. I don't think he really understood how sick he really was."

His doctor side taking over, Lecter asked about Harry's treatment. "How was he treated? Chemotherapy? Surgery?"

Kelly nodded as she finished her salad, remembering the long two and a half years Harry was in the hospital. "Radiation therapy, too. He got so sick from the meds, he couldn't keep anything down." She took a deep breath and voiced the thought she'd been holding onto for a long time. "I'm so scared he's going to relapse. Harry's oncologist, Dr. Grace Willis, said he was lucky he didn't have to lose his leg."

* * *

_10 Months Later_

Ordinarily, Kelly Gibbs met psychiatrist Dr. Hannibal Lecter at his home where the psych sessions would take place over a fantastically prepared meal cooked by Lecter himself.

But today, the appointment was sudden and unscheduled, though Lecter had been kind enough to bring a container of his homemade tiramisu-which he had been keeping in his fridge-along with plates, forks, and a dessert wine with flavors of coffee and orange.

After a bite of the luscious dessert which helped calm her frazzled nerves, Kelly tried to fight back a wave of tears. "Last night, Harry had a burst of uncontrolled magic," Kelly explained after a while. "Um… Apparently, sometimes it can happen when there's severe emotional trauma, or… or serious illness or injury."

Lecter took in Kelly's look and he knew what had brought her to his office so suddenly. "Harry's cancer has returned." At Kelly's nod, he asked, "His treatment this time?"

Kelly set down her plate of tiramisu and rubbed her neck with both hands. "He's going to lose his leg. And because of the cancer metastasizing… possibly his eye as well." After a few deep breaths to calm herself, she went on. "Harry's going to be in chemotherapy afterwards and if he's in good enough shape to go back to Hogwarts… Dad and I are probably going to go with him."

It had been a long time since Hannibal Lecter thought of anyone as a friend. There had been colleagues and professional associates, but very, very, few real friends. But over the past months, Lecter had found himself viewing Kelly as a potential friend. "Am I to understand that you will no longer be my patient after today?"

Kelly took a sip of her wine and took another bite of her dessert before nodding, sadly. "Probably not."

It took the psychiatrist only a moment to decide what to say next. "Then please join me for dinner one last time. Tomorrow evening?" Seeing Kelly's hesitation, Lecter added, "Don't think of it as a therapy session. Rather, as a dinner shared between friends."

It was an invitation Kelly found impossible to decline.


End file.
